Hope and History
by pinkowitch
Summary: This chaptered story follows Jasper in the days before he meets Alice, and concentrates on his coming to terms with his personal demons with Alice's help. Special thanks to my beta, Ras1.
1. Chapter 1 Damned September 1948

**Chapter 1 - Damned - September 1948**

It was the still time of morning, just before dawn. The night sounds had abated, preparing to surrender their stage to the cheerful songs of morning -- songs that had not yet begun. So the world, for this short time, was filled with a pregnant silence, softened and intensified by the thick fog.  
Suddenly, the echo of footsteps on cobble broke through the pre-dawn reverie. A tall, lean figure quickly crossed the empty street and disappeared into the warmth of a nearby tenement. The streets fell silent again.

Inside, the man removed his jacket which was old and frayed around the cuffs and collar - and sat himself at the one piece of furniture in the room : a pine desk piled high with used books. One violent sweep of his hand showed clearly that he was not in the mood for reading. Letting the books lie where they fell, he lowered his head miserably to the desk, burying it beneath his clenched hands.

It had been a difficult night for Jasper Whitlock. Yes, he had seen plenty of these in his years, but for some reason they seemed to get harder, not easier.

His shoulders began to shake, in a way that a human might identify as sobbing. And indeed, the emotions involved were the same - despair, horror, misery - but they were not, in fact, Jasper's own. They were emotions he had ingested with the very lifeblood that was necessary for his survival. It was like this every time. It always had been. With the kill he drank in the misery and horror of his victims. Drinking death and the terrifying emotions that accompanied it was an intimate and intense experience of the most horrific type imaginable. Jasper likened it to drinking the very fires of hell. After a quick high of physical satisfaction came the crash or "detox", as Jasper called it; a side-effect of his ability. And Jasper knew that the emotions would destroy him if they were not released in the one way possible - by he himself reliving them.

And that was what he did, sitting hunched over at the bare pine desk in the still solitude of early morning. For nearly an hour, his shoulders shook and his body trembled as he died yet again, a death he suffered so that he could live. It was a cruel irony, and one that Jasper appreciated in his more lucid moments; that in doing what was required of him for survival, he came closer to feeling death than he ever would.

But now, he felt only the pain.

In some dark part of him was a voice that embraced it. It was a pain he deserved, a warranted punishment, although no earthly pain could come close to cleansing his damnéd soul. It was payback to a monster who lived by destroying life: that he himself would die a thousand deaths yet never find the peace and rest his victims found after the deed was done.

For God, Jasper believed, was a human God. Mortal souls, no matter how tarnished, could always find redemption in the afterlife. There was no God for monsters. There would be no peace for Jasper, no rest. And hell was played out around him every day.

In time the shaking stopped, but his shoulders did not relax. The worst part was still to come. He could see the aura around his eyes already. After the detox came what in its kinder and gentler version might have been a severe migraine headache. It happened after he detoxed from any negative emotion, even if there was no death involved, but it was exponentially worse if there had been. Strangely, neither detox nor migraines followed positive emotions , but he had experienced painfully few of those in the last century

By early evening, Jasper felt himself again. The sounds of Philadelphia, of the life just outside his shuttered window, no longer were a jackhammer to his consciousness.

It was over, for now at least. There was no need to feed for at least a week now. He often tried to push it for far longer, although he rarely succeeded. Jasper hated hunting - for what it cost him personally and for what it meant objectively. He had been raised both a devout Christian and a gentleman. Being a monstrous killer was a slap in the face of both. And yet, he found that the only way he could keep himself from feeding far more frequently than he did was to distance himself from humans entirely. He could not live near them, among them, for if he did, he could not find the strength within him to resist. So he would lock himself away with his books, feeding himself with knowledge and happy endings until the thirst became too much to bear. Then the cycle would begin again.

This was his life, and had been since he had escaped Maria.

Jasper shuddered at even the thought of that name. Even here, thousands of miles from her reach, it sent icy tentacles of fear coursing through him...

He shook his head, attempting to dispel the old nightmares.

Later.

He would deal with that later, when perhaps he was not quite so vulnerable as he was after a detox.

Night fell, the normal progression of day, and Jasper turned out all the lights in his room and opened the shutters just enough for him to be able to see out into the night. It was clear tonight, no sign of the fog that had marred the night before. The moon glittered brightly overhead, and he could make out a sky of stars through the city's glow.

A children's ditty popped into his head, from so long ago he could not know if it was a memory or something he had read.

_Star Light, Star Bright,  
First star I see tonight  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
Have this wish I wish tonight._

Something in Jasper's heart clenched at the words, at the idea of wishing on a star, at hope, at dreaming that perhaps there was something beyond the nightmare that he lived every day. Such dreams were chimeras and would cause nothing but pain. There was no hope for a creature such as himself. There was only survival. And more death. And never any freedom from the circle of misery. Dante had been right in some ways - damnation was eternal, and inescapable. Only it was not a fiery seven-ringed pit, but a never-ending life of loneliness and shame, a life in which to survival could only come at the loss of humanity, a life in which all the joy of living was gone : a living death.

He closed the shutters almost violently, turning back to the spartan chamber where he had spent the last few weeks. Perhaps it was time to leave Philadelphia, if he was becoming so weak that he would think of i_hope/i_.

Soon, he would move on.


	2. Chapter 2 Alone September 1948

**Chapter 2 – Alone – September 1948**

The shadows deepened as the sky fell below the western horizon, and the trickles of light that had snuck through the holes in the shutters to cloak Jasper's room in pale light during the daylight hours slowly receded and finally disappeared.  
Jasper had planned to leave Philadelphia tonight, but could not will himself to rise from his seated position in the darkest corner of the room. He had not been able to earlier, when he should have been packing his sparse belongings, and he could not now. He simply did not have the strength or energy to fight the lethargy that had overcome him.

So he sat in the corner, arms around his knees, and stared into nothing, as he had all day. There was no emotion in his eyes. No pain, no sadness. Just – nothing. A bleak, empty nothingness had settled over his very being like a fog.

Out of nowhere, he suddenly missed Peter and Charlotte. He thought of them only rarely anymore, but tonight he longed for Peter's easy laughter, or for the warmth of Charlotte's smile. He had been happy, at first, travelling with them. He had enjoyed having others of his kind with whom to spend the time during the day. But, in time the fact that they were mates – and very devoted ones – began to make Jasper feel unwanted, and even worse – lonely. Watching their happiness had only gone to illustrate his own solitude; he had served as a contrast to their love and devotion, and in doing so, he had been a dark cloud hovering above their joy. They had tried to be kind, they had tried to be accepting, but in the end, Jasper profoundly understood, he simply wasn't worth it. To have his company was not worth accepting the dark turn his moods often took. Jasper had been able to feel the emotions that they had tried to hide, the words that they had not wanted to say. But he knew, nonetheless. They did not want him there. They did not want to deal with the darkness he brought. And so he had left them, and he had sensed that while they were sad to see him go – they were also glad to have the time alone and together.

Alone.

Jasper knew the meaning of the word intimately, but it had not always been so. Once, in memories so old he could scarcely believe they were his, he had been a part of a family. He had a sister, parents… And there had been women, in those years. Nobody in particular, no one who had captured his heart, but he had been popular with the camp followers, both for his dedication and passion for the army, and for his looks. And he once had friends among his peers; fellow officers who shared his goals, or at least respected them.

But then Maria came, and everything changed. She had made herself his everything, his whole world, his alpha and his omega. Maria's desires had been the ones that mattered; Maria's anger the one to be feared. And before long, all others had been forgotten.

And now they were long dead and buried.  
He returned his thoughts to Peter and Charlotte. They had loved each other so deeply, so profoundly. Jasper had thought at one time that he had loved Maria, but what they had had not been love. It had been Maria exercising her power over him in the most primal way possible. She had controlled his actions, his thoughts, his hunting habits, and finally his body as well. She had used him for her pleasure. He had, at first, even been honored by her attentions. ..

Jasper shuddered at the memories, pushing thoughts of Maria back into the corner of his mind where he could control them. He could not face them, not now. His demons were too close on this dark evening, as he sat here completely and utterly alone.

Love. Had he ever known it? Perhaps, in memories too distant for him to recall, he had loved. Perhaps he had even been loved in return. He could not remember, try as he might. And now, he would never know.

For who could love him? He did not ask the question out of self-pity, but out of a true conviction that there was nothing about him worth loving. For what was he? Putting aside the despicable fact of what he truly _was_, he was a creature stained with the blood of his own kind. He had murdered not for self-defense or for love, or for one of the few other honorable reasons to kill, but to expand Maria's territory, to help her extend her cruel tyranny. He had killed because she had told him to, and he had done it well, because death was his business. He was an efficient and deadly killer, an enemy none wished to have. Others of his own kind, who could see the scars he tried desperately to cover, looked at him only with fear in their eyes. They would not look past the crescent shaped marks; even in Jasper's mind they were marks of something that rendered him grotesque and unlovable. He was a killer and deserved no one's love. And furthermore, he did not need it, or want it.

He raised his head from his knees to peer into the darkness again and forced himself to admit the lie.

He _did_ want it, as crazy as it sounded. Within his killer's body and inside his still and unbeating heart, his very essence yearned to be loved. Somewhere, in waking dreams he did not even admit to himself, he walked hand in hand with someone who could accept him for who he was, who could love him despite his many faults. Someone for whom he would give his very life to protect; someone who could banish the shadows and demons that haunted him daily, instead of recoiling from them, or pushing him away. His savior. His love. His lady.

Burying his face again on his knees, he chastised himself for his foolishness. Love was not for him; it never would be. His days would be spent alone, his nights wandering the lonely streets in search of prey. And every day he would become more and more the monster, until finally, there was nothing left of the man who had once been Jasper Whitlock.

And this was the only future he could see.

He gasped, a very human reaction to the emotional onslaught that hit him, this time from himself. Hopelessness, despair, even rage joined with the other miseries as he glanced down the path that was his future. He had not asked for this life; he had not wanted it. He had had dreams once, great dreams. He had wanted to go to University, to have a family, to hold grandchildren on his lap and tell them stories that lit up their faces. He had dreamed of growing old with the one he loved, of holding her hand as they walked down dirt lanes, laughing and sharing their souls. He had wanted to live, to know life, and to die contented that he had been a good man. This entire life had been murdered by Maria, and he had been forced into this Hell that was infinite and inescapable.

To be hated, to be feared, to be alone. To walk the human world as a shadow, existing on the darkest corners of nightmares. To appear human, but have the heart of a monster. This was his lot.

He yearned for death, for escape, for release. But there was nothing he could do himself, and he knew very intimately how difficult it was for one like him to die. He could provoke the Volturi, but they were the only ones he feared even more than Maria. He had witnessed their cruelty, and it was not the way he wanted to end.

Every way was blocked. Every escape was impossible. He must continue to live, for his very being gave him no choice in the matter. But they could not force his damned soul to live. And every day it died a little more. He was dying, sure enough. Soon, he would be nothing but the monster. He would give in completely to the evil, and these memories, these regrets, these pains would be gone. He would be an animal, a monster in entirety, and the pain, at last, would ease.

Nothing Jasper foresaw could stop this transformation. It would take a great power, a redemptive force far beyond what he had ever known to pull him back from the precipice over which he stood. It would take love. A true love, a complete love, a love unselfish and non-judgmental, who could love a monster like Jasper Whitlock unconditionally, and who would hold him at her heart as his soul bled. A patient love that would wait for him as he healed. It would take a miracle and an angel, and neither happened to monsters.

But perhaps, once he had given in completely to the animal instinct that lurked within him, he would no longer be human enough to feel the pain. That, at least, was something.


	3. Chapter 3 Thirsty September 1948

**Chapter 3 – Thirsty – September 1948**

The sound of shattering wood broke the oppressive silence that had descended on Jasper's Spartan bedchamber. It was followed immediately by a feral growl, guttural and terrifying, the growl of an animal on the prowl.

It was Jasper's growl.

For several days now the thirst had been growing, eating at him, gnawing determinedly at his subconscious. His eyes had gone from red to black; and it seemed that the longer he tried to ignore the thirst, the deeper and more overwhelming it became. It had been eight days since he had fed, and the thirst was driving him mad.

_I do not want to kill again..._

God help him, the thought of taking another life was more than he could bear. He did not know if he could do it again. The choosing, the stalking, the murder, the guilt that came with the physical satisfaction, the detox, the migraine...the entire process which every time turned him more into an animal.

_I do not want this!_

He fought it with everything he had, but the thirst was getting stronger. Eventually the animal within would take control, and all choice would be taken from him.  
The pine desk, which had taken the brunt of Jasper's rage, collapsed on itself, then was silent. Jasper fell to his knees in the corner, his palms pressed against the cold wooden wall.

_Please, God..._

His fingers moved from the wall to his hair, raking it desperately as another wave of need hit him. He groaned miserably as if in terrible pain and collapsed to a fetal position on the floor.

"**Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."**

Jasper's velvet voice broke the silence, full of desperation and need. In the depths of his misery, Jasper knew that God did not answer the prayers of monsters. But somewhere even deeper, an untouched and innocent part of his heart still clung to the shattered remnants of his humanity. Despite himself and his hatred of the emotion, he clung to a tiny shred of hope that someday he could be redeemed. This last part of himself, the part that had not surrendered to the animal, thought that maybe, just maybe, God was greater and more forgiving than even he imagined. Perhaps the prayers of a fallen child, of an evil monster, would be heard. For truly, Jasper did not know where else to turn. In the darkness of his solitude, his only hope lay in God. He remembered dark hours as a human, dark hours in the war when all hope had seemed lost, and he had turned to God and found solace from the evil and terror that surrounded him. And in this moment of utter darkness which he now found himself in, he allowed himself, one last time, to hope.

"**Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven..."**

Surely it could not be God's will for him to be like this, for him to kill, to destroy human life and human dreams. And if it were not God's will, surely He would help? Surely He would help Jasper's hunger diminish. Surely He would give him the strength to fight this battle that Jasper knew he could not win alone.

_God, I beg you, give me the strength to fight this..._

"**Give us this day our daily bread..."**

There had to be another way. There had to be another life. To survive, to find sustenance, to satisfy his body without damning his soul.

_God, show me the way..._

"**And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us..."**

Jasper clenched his fists, the words cutting him to the quick. Forgiveness. He could never forgive himself, and he certainly did not see how God could do so. But, they said that to forgive was divine.

_But to err was human..._

And human he was not.

"**And lead us not into temptation..."**

He had tried to avoid temptation. All week he had remained locked in his room, away from humans, away from the scent of their blood, which gave him an almost erotic pleasure that he hated at the same time he craved it. But now...he could smell it from his memories, could taste the warm saltiness on his tongue and lips, feel the warmth spread throughout his body. He moaned miserably as he felt himself begin to salivate at the very thought, and he rolled over on his stomach and buried his face under his hands. Peter and Charlotte had never understood his reluctance to hunt. They had seen the pain killing caused him physically, and understood that as much as anyone could, but they had not understood the moral dilemma it caused him. "_But it is what we are, Jasper,"_ Peter had stated, confused, when once Jasper had mentioned his discomfort with killing humans to survive. "_We have to live, and hunting is how we live. No one calls a lion evil for killing a gazelle."_ They had never been able to understand his explanations of why it was different, and it had eventually influenced his decision to leave.

"**But deliver us from evil…"**

This, perhaps, was his greatest wish of all. To escape the evil, the killing, for God to give him the exit from this that he could not find on his own. He could not die, he could not stop killing without help. And only God could reach him now.

"**For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen."**

Jasper lay face down on the dusty floor for several seconds after his voice faded from the room. The hope grew, slowly, that perhaps God would open a door through which he could escape this life, through which he could finally find peace and solace. He had begged for help in the only way he knew how, to the only one left he knew to ask.

This was truly his last hope.

It lasted for a few seconds, as he lay on the floor. But then a wave of thirst unlike anything he had ever felt washed over him and drew a strangled cry from him, ripped from his soul. It was the death cry of his humanity. His soul seemed to shatter, his fingers digging into the wooden floor, leaving deep marks.

God had truly forsaken him.

He had taken the chance, held hope in his grasp one last time, and it had been for nothing. There was nothing left to hope for, nothing left to do but to let the monster win.  
He stood in a swift and silent movement, all light gone from his eyes. His face was stony and cold. He forced himself to feel nothing, to think of nothing as he strode from the room into the black night, leaving behind forever the man who had been Jasper Whitlock. From now on, he had no name, no identity. In the dark of morning, he would gather up all memories, all dreams, all that had made him that man, and cast it aside, and force himself to forget.  
Hope was lost. There was nowhere else to turn. He would become as dark as the moonless night. He would become a creature of the shadows, nameless, terrifying, and dead in all ways but one.

He felt a resistance from deep within, and growled viciously at himself as he forced it away. There would be no regrets. Monsters did not regret their evil, and he was a monster in every way. He would embrace the evil, pull it within him, and let it consume him.

In this way, he would escape.

He closed his mind to thought, and let the primal hunger envelop him. He smelled humans all around him. He picked up his pace, scenting out that which smelled the most attractive, that which would give him the most pleasure for the longest amount of time. He would feed tonight, and he would enjoy it.

Only, he could not bring himself to do it.

He sat weakly on a bench as rain began to fall from the sky, taking the place of the tears he wished could fall from his cheeks. He hated himself entirely. Hated himself for his childishness, for the tiny and yet enduring part of him that could not give up the weakness of hope. The thirst assailed him, tore at his very being, but the very pain of his need fulfilled a masochistic desire to punish himself for his weakness.

He could not even succeed at being a monster. He was a failure as a human, a failure as a vampire, and a failure as a monster. He was nothing, no one, worthless and without realistic hope of a future worth living. And yet, against all odds, he felt strangely content. Perhaps here, at the very bottom, at the end of all things, there was a peace in knowing that there was nothing left to wish for, nothing left to struggle for. Despair came in being denied a future beyond what you had – perhaps there was tranquility in knowing with finality that you could never have anything else than that which you now knew.

The rain fell harder, soaking him through the old and tattered garments he wore. He did not feel the cold, but nonetheless, the wet was uncomfortable, and any human passing by might think his presence there – in the cold and pouring rain - odd.

He opened his eyes, looking for shelter, and saw, not far away, the warm lights of a small diner. It would be warm there, and dry. Perhaps he could even find temporary contentment in stolen human emotions. His eyes were dark enough that a quick look at him would reveal nothing. He stood and hurried towards it.


	4. Chapter 4 Touched September 1948

**Chapter 4 – Touched – September 1948**

The light, noise, and heat assaulted Jasper as soon as he opened the door. He crouched, slightly defensive, at the onslaught of sensation and emotion, and its utter contrast to the cold and silent night. As his sensitive eyes and ears adjusted, he concentrated on relaxing, on returning to a posture more indicative of a human being instead of a cornered animal. He was concentrating so intensely on appearing human that he did not even notice her at first.

It was her smell that was his primary indication.

He jerked his head up, his body stiffening. Pure defensive instinct caused him to take a step back. He searched for her with his eyes, scanning the whirling emotions of everyone in the diner as he sought hers. Which one was she? He could tell that she was female, but that did not put his mind at ease.

Maria had been female too.

His eyes and his emotions found her simultaneously. He cocked his head slightly, trying to make sense of what he felt.

Physically, she was tiny. Her features were delicate, and she was easily a foot shorter than him, if not more. She looked like a ballerina, or a fairy. Jasper thought that she was small enough that she was not a real threat to him, although experience had taught him never to underestimate anyone, for appearances could most certainly be mistaken. Her hair was short and spiky, not at all the way Jasper liked hair on women. He had always favored curvy women, with long, blond hair that he could run his fingers through. She had neither the curves nor the hair.

_And yet..._

The emotional impressions he was receiving from her at the same time were unlike anything he had felt before. Recognition. Joy. Relief. Love. Contentment. Excitement. Ecstasy. They were directed, he realized suddenly with a jolt of alarm, at him.

And she was staring at him.

_Of course she is._ He chided himself. She had probably noticed him the moment he had walked through the door. It was prudent for their kind to be aware of the presence of others – they were not particularly social creatures and their meetings were not often friendly.

And yet, caution was not what he felt from her. In fact, caution was a feeling that was completely lacking from her emotional profile. She was not afraid of him; that much was clear. The overall theme of her emotions was...Jasper struggled to understand, to put context to what he was receiving from her.

As he tried to decipher this complicated and confusing array of emotions, she stood and began walking toward him.

Jasper was frozen in place. His own emotions churned and battled within him, making him unable to act. He was confused...frightened...curious...and he did not know whether to run or smile back at her.

He did neither, remaining frozen like a statue, partially blocking the door.

She reached him, stopped before him, and crossed her arms. When she spoke, her tone was gently rebuking.

"You've kept me waiting a long time."

Jasper's first thought was that her voice was like the soft tinkle of bells. His second thought was a mix of confusion and horror that somehow, in the thirty seconds since he had entered the diner, he had managed to offend a lady.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said softly, lowering his eyes to the ground. Did he know her? She seemed to think that he did. And he had felt recognition from her. Yet he was quite certain that he had never seen her before this night.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, really," she said with a truly happy smile. "You're here now, and that's what matters. Oh! I suppose I need to introduce myself, don't I? How silly of me. You don't – well, of course you don't – anyway, I'm Alice."

_Alice._

He just stared at her, rendered dumb. She was talking quickly, with excitement and energy, and he found that his initial impression of her physical appearance was changing. Perhaps she was not a curvy blond, but she was vivacious, and really quite lovely. He wondered how he had missed it before.

She waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. He blinked and looked at her blankly for a moment. Had she said something?

She held out her hand to him.

"Come," she said impatiently. "Let's sit down in a booth where we can talk."

It had literally been decades since Jasper had touched one of his own kind. His years with Maria, years of punishment and exploitation, had made him wary of touch. He liked his personal space. To invade it was to violate him not only on a physical level, but on an emotional one as well, for touch made the emotions he received that much more intense. He literally could not remember the last time he had voluntarily touched another, but without thought, he reached out and took her hand.

And all at once, the world changed.

He could not explain exactly what it was that happened in that moment, but as he clasped her hand and stared into her eyes, it seemed that his personal demons, who had been his constant companions for a century, suddenly were thrust into a less prominent position by something far more powerful and poignant. It seemed his heart, which had long since ceased to beat, suddenly thrummed with electricity. He felt a rush of protectiveness surge through him, as if he was in the presence of something very, very precious. It was a feeling so intense that it caused him to emit a very low snarl. Instead of releasing her hand, he very gently laid it in the crook of his arm, and covered it with his hand.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, cocking his head slightly in curiosity and wonder. Then he nodded slightly at her request; simply nodded – it was all he could do.

Still holding his hand, Alice led them to a booth in the corner, where they would be less likely to be overheard. Thankfully, their sensitive hearing would also allow them to speak softly enough that human eavesdropping was unlikely to be a problem.

"You're taller than I thought you'd be," Alice said matter-of-factly once they were seated. "But I don't mind."

Jasper raised an eyebrow, his confusion growing. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

_Of course!_

"Maria sent you," he said, his voice icy cold, radiating fear and loathing unintentionally. If anyone could find someone to hunt him down, it would be her.

Alice shuddered at the flood of emotion.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it at once!" Alice reprimanded.

Jasper stopped at her words without a second thought. He blinked. He would reflect on this blind obedience later.

Alice relaxed, and the same happy, contented feelings radiated from her as before.

"I don't know anyone named Maria," she said gently, her very voice a salve to Jasper's punctured soul. "And she certainly didn't send me. I found you myself."

Jasper thought he sensed a bit of pride in her voice.

_But pride at what?_ She had found him, yes, but why had she been looking? How did she know him, or who had sent her?

He searched for the answer to this puzzle in her emotions, but found nothing. He frowned deeply and finally sighed, defeated.

"What are you talking about?" His shoulders sagged at his admission. "I don't understand."

Alice grinned at him. She had an easy smile that lit up her eyes. Jasper found that he liked that about her, too.

"I keep forgetting that you can't – you see, I've been seeing us together most of my life, all of it that I can really remember, and I feel that I know you already. I just want to skip this part, which is really quite dull and tedious, don't you think? But I suppose we can't. You know you've really been remiss in your manners," she teased. "You haven't even told me your name."

Jasper's eyes widened. It was true. He had forgotten even this simple courtesy.

"Forgive me, ma'am, my name is -"

"Jasper, I know."

He blinked.

"How?"

"It's just this little gift I have," she said, trying to keep her voice light, but looking down at the table. "I...have visions sometimes. Of things that haven't happened yet."

"Of the future?" Jasper asked, curiously.

"Yes, of the future. And you see, the first vision I had after I was turned, it was of you, and that was years and years ago, and now I've finally found you, and you're more wonderful than I ever imagined."

"You...you see the future, and you had a vision _of me._" Jasper did not doubt her ability to see the future – he had met others of their kind with special abilities, and also had one himself. But why would she have seen _him_, of all things?

"Yes, of you," she said softly, looking up at him, her eyes wide, as if she truly did not want to explain any further in words.

Impulsively, he reached out and clasped her tiny hands in his strong ones in the middle of the table. Her emotions flooded him, and he felt himself begin to tremble. These were emotions...emotions of love...of friendship...of desire...of togetherness. Emotions of partnership.

_Mates._

Jasper rose from his seat far faster than he should have, nearly knocking over the booth behind him in his sudden need to flee the diner. He was out the door and into the night faster than any human could have done, his stunned state responsible for the lapse.

_Mates! She had seen them as mates! _

He could not. He would not. He lived alone. He did not need anyone else. He had done fine for himself, and would continue to do so. He would not subject another to his wretchedness. Peter and Charlotte had grown weary of him and his mood swings, and so would all others. He was simply unlovable..

Yet even now, his heart yearned for her.

He heard her tiny footsteps behind him and slowed, not turning around, but allowing her to catch up.

"You saw us happy _together_. As mates, Alice. That...that's not possible. You don't understand. I work alone. You don't really want me, Alice. You don't have any idea what I am. I'm a monster."

He turned around to face her, pushing up his sleeves, holding out his scarred arms for her to see.

"A monster, Alice! I've killed more of our kind then you probably even knew existed. You are light and joy and beauty...and I won't smother that with my darkness. No!"

He turned his face away from her, hating himself profoundly, and waiting to feel the disgust from her, as well.

It never materialized.

Instead, a moment later, he felt her delicate arms encircle his waist from behind, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He was overcome by a tender sadness, and realized suddenly that it was coming from her.

"You won't smother me, Jasper. I'll give you light. I've seen it. I'm not afraid of you. And I'm not horrified of you. Those scars, they don't frighten me. They just make me sad. They make me wish that I could gently kiss each one and with that banish the memories of the horrors you must have seen in order to have them all. My poor dear."

Her arms held him tighter, and against his better judgment, he began to draw comfort from the contact. She seemed an infinite source.

After a moment, he twisted in her arms and wrapped his arms protectively around her tiny, yet surprisingly strong frame.

He held her, there in the rain, his face buried in her hair, for he knew not how long. He didn't care how long. He felt long-forgotten hopes begin to awaken. Dreams that had been smashed by Maria began to peek out at a new world.

_How is she doing this?_ he wondered, not letting go of her. It was as if his heart had been locked and barred, and somehow this beautiful little Alice held the key.

Jasper had never wanted a mate before, not really. He had dreamed of it on occasion, of having someone who understood him, who loved him enough to give him his space when he needed it, who did not become weary of his moods. Of finding love and comfort in a woman's arms, instead of fear and shame. But in the same breath he had always imagined that this person simply did not exist. He was telling the truth when he said he worked alone, and the idea of having to put up with someone else, having another vampire beside him, sharing his horror, it was just too much. He was a very private person; he always had been, and he needed his alone time.

But somehow...somehow Alice _wasn't_ "another" vampire. He didn't know why or how or when he came to that conclusion, but he suddenly realized that whatever was happening here was far more mystical and otherworldly than he was meant to understand. He started to wonder if his decades of wandering had all been pulling him toward this very moment, as her vision had been leading her. He wondered if God had answered his earlier prayers in His own way.

This was not just a girl who wanted to be his mate.

She _was_ his mate, and as strange as it sounded, he realized that she always had been. Even in his darkest moments, she had been there, an inextricable part of him, there in every way but physically. As he held her in his arms, he found he recognized the unique combination of emotions that came from her; the signature by which an empath can identify an individual. Only, it was not so _individual_. It echoed his own, complemented his own, _completed_ his own. And when he thought about the hole in his heart, that signature filled it, and made him whole.

She was not just a random girl; she was the better part of Jasper Whitlock. And he knew clearly at this moment that, no matter what the future held, he would never be able to let her go.


	5. Chapter 5 Hope September 1948

Chapter 5 - One

Jasper did not know how long he held her in his arms in the silent street outside the diner. He didn't care. It was a luxury he rarely had, to lose himself in the joy of another, to feel his own joy in his heart and revel in it, without thinking of reasons or consequences. To live in the moment, and not worry about what came before, or would come after. Simply to live, and to enjoy that living, was an experience that was foreign to Jasper, and he was determined to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

But although Jasper's world was forever altered, the world had not changed enough that the church bells ringing six o'clock did not pull Jasper from his reverie. Dawn would come soon. Alice stirred in his arms, wordlessly reaching the same conclusion and took his hand.

"Come," she said softly, leading him away. He did not ask where they were going. It was Jasper's way, submitting to the authority of another. He had done so with his military commanders as a human, and it had made him a good soldier. He had done so with Maria, until the day he had betrayed her by running – something that still festered within him. But he would think on that later. Alice led him to a small, nondescript motel on the edge of town. She pulled a key from her bag and opened the door, letting him in before her. Once they were inside, she locked the doors and closed the curtains, before sitting on the colorful, quilted bedspread.

Jasper smiled a little – only in his eyes – when he noticed that her feet did not quite reach the floor when she did so. He backed against the door, crossing his arms across his chest, and stared at her for a moment, before dropping his eyes.

"Jasper," she said, finally breaking the silence. He looked up at her, his unbeating heart fluttering at the sound of her voice. He cocked an eyebrow to acknowledge her.

"I don't know anything about you," she began shyly. "I mean, I can see almost everything in our future," she smiled very slightly at this. "But as for the past...I don't even know where you're from. Except I know you're from the south."

Jasper shifted his weight, a human reaction to discomfort that he had never been able to lose.

"Texas," he answered simply a moment later. "Houston, Texas."

Alice looked at him for a long moment, obviously hoping for elaboration, and Jasper felt his discomfort grow. Reality was intruding on his dream. She would want to know about his past. And then she would realize...Jasper inhaled deeply as panic began to course through his veins. He looked at the ground, and then closed his eyes tightly. She would want to know about his past. She would want to know all his shames, all his miseries, and then, like Peter and Charlotte, she would lose respect for him, and begin to pity him. And eventually she would tire of that pity, and tire of him, and she would leave, and he would be alone, only so much more alone than he had ever been before, because he knew what it felt like after holding her last night to finally be complete...

A moment later, she was there in front of him, gently placing her fingers under his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Jasper, what are you so afraid of?"

"Losing you."

The words were out before he could stop them. He grimaced at having said them. Nonetheless, they were true. Although he'd only known her such a short time, even the thought of her leaving him caused his heart to clench in agony. And she would leave if she knew his shame. Everyone did. He broke eye contact with Alice and stared at his worn boots.

He felt Alice's arms snake around him; her head pressed against his chest as she embraced him. A tiny whimper escaped his lips as he at first fought, then finally accepted the warmth and comfort that emanated from her. It frightened him, this feeling, for he knew it was addictive. And he knew that when she left and took it with her, he would suffer withdrawal more intense than any drug addict. He held her tighter, burying his face in her short black hair, and leaving a tiny kiss on her forehead. His eyes began to smart with tears that could never fall.

This, perhaps, was the cruelest thing of all. This taste of warmth, of love. This knowing how it could be to have something so infinitely precious, and yet know that it could never last. For Jasper Whitlock, he knew from experience, was unlovable. In time, Alice would realize that, and leave like all the others. He should push her away, allow her no access to his bruised and battered heart, for letting her close would only intensify the pain when she left.

"Don't, Jasper," she said softly. "Don't push me away. Please."

Her voice was soft and pleading. As he looked down at her, he suddenly realized that the sadness he was feeling was not entirely his. His eyes widened as he brought a hand to her cheek, cupping it tenderly.

"Alice..." he began.

"I have nowhere else to go..."

"Alice..."

"I need you too..."

His heart melted a bit at the sadness in her voice, and his protective barriers fell. Was it possible? Was it possible that this beautiful pixie he held in his arms needed him as much as his injured soul needed her? Could someone truly need _him_? He caressed her cheek with his thumb, staring into her eyes for a long moment.

"Don't push me away," she begged once more.

"I won't. I can't."

And it was the truth.

"I don't care what you've done, Jasper. Nothing in your past will make me leave. I've seen how happy we'll be, I've _seen_ it. And I _know_ it. I've waited so long for you, since I was first turned. I don't remember anything about being a human. My first memories are of waking up and seeing you. I've looked for you for so long, and now that you've found me, nothing you can possibly say could ever make me leave. I loved you before I ever saw you, before I ever heard your voice or touched you. You've always been my Jasper, and I've always been your Alice, even if we didn't always know it..."

She trailed off, and Jasper's grip on her tightened. He felt the truth of her words, from the emotions that came from her, and from his own heart. There was something more than Alice and himself at work here. Perhaps God had answered his prayer in His own way. Yes, that must be it; for only God could give a gift as precious and sublime as this. And to think that he had doubted God, for even a moment! A chill went through him as his thoughts went back to his darkest days – not so long ago – when his faith in the depth of God's forgiveness had wavered.

Perhaps, just perhaps, if one prayed long enough and hard enough, there _was_ a God for monsters. Perhaps there was hope that one day he could find redemption for his sins; that this was a sign that God could forgive him, even if he could never forgive himself.

"...swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor..."

"Edgar Allan Poe," she replied. "But I'm no angel. Only a wanderer like you, who has finally come home."

And she put her hand gently over his bruised and beaten heart. Her cool hand felt warm to him, hot even, as the touch seared his skin, and made him quiver within.

"When were you born?" she asked gently, barely a whisper.

Jasper hesitated. This was all so very new. Although his heart knew that he could trust Alice, his reason still flinched at the question. It was an innocuous question; innocent. His mind and soul told him that there was no malicious intent. But habits that had taken eighty years to form were not broken overnight. Yet when he looked at her, so gently imploring, full of innocent and gentle curiosity, he took a blind leap of faith.

"1843."

Alice blinked. "As a human?"

Jasper nodded.

"And how old were you when you were changed?"

"Twenty."

"Did you fight in the War?"

Jasper's eyes shuttered. This question was too close. Alice took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

"We have time," she said softly, confidently. Jasper exhaled. The tension that had been building since she began questioning him eased from his neck and shoulders. She would not push him; he knew that suddenly. She would never ask him for more than he was comfortable giving. Unlike Maria...Jasper shuddered. Alice was absolutely _nothing_ like Maria. One was darkness and the other light. One was pain and the other joy. One was death and the other life. One hatred and the other...love? Could he allow himself to even think the word? It seemed impossible to him, and his whole being wanted to fight it.

But as he looked into her eyes...

It was there.

As much as it startled him, as much as it scared him, as much as he wanted to deny it, there was love in Alice's eyes.

For him.

And he felt it radiating off of her in waves, meeting those waves that were coming from his heart, and becoming something entirely new and entirely beautiful.

And entirely overwhelming.

Jasper began to shake from the sheer intensity of the emotion. He had never felt anything like it. It swirled around them, giving him strength and life and the hope he had thought he would never feel again.

And tentatively, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile, the first smile he had given in eighty years. He did not understand what he had done to deserve this, but his heart swelled with love for Alice, and for God, who had answered his prayer in a way that Jasper had never dared to dream.

He pulled Alice into a tight embrace, kissing her hair worshipfully.

"My Alice."

She snuggled against him.

"Forever, my love, forever."

And for the first time he could remember, he wondered if maybe immortality wasn't a curse after all.


	6. Chapter 6 Joined

**Chapter 6**

As their embrace lingered, Jasper began to notice a subtle shift in Alice's emotions. The gentle contentment that had radiated from her at first became restless, then longing as she began to nestle against him in an obvious attempt to maximize the contact. As she did, the longing evolved into hunger and desire.

_Desire?!?!_

At that feeling, Jasper gasped, and all rational thought was lost. With a whimper of despair he pushed her away and frantically leapt over the bed, putting it between Alice and himself. He cowered in the corner against the far wall, hugging his knees and rocking slightly.

"No...please...not again..."

He shuddered, his mind far from the innocuous hotel room, sucked back to a hell he would never truly escape.

_**She**__ had felt that way. It was the first thing he felt, the desire. The pure, raging lust that overpowered everything. Eventually the disgust would come, but he could hardly blame her for that. He was disgusting.__ She__ had never failed to tell him that. But it had been the desire that started it. Her desire, regardless of his own. Her needs. Her desires. And what she made him do...the shameful things...the painful things...and she had become so angry if he had protested..._

"Please, don't hurt me again..." he begged his unseen abuser as his shoulders heaved with dry sobs. "Please, Maria..."

He felt hands take his own. He did not fight them. He could not fight her. She was too strong, and he would only end up with a punishment even worse than what he was protesting. He simply bit his teeth into his lip and tried to distance himself from the pain, as he had always done. He had to pretend it was happening to someone else, or he could not bear it. Sometimes this tactic even worked.

"Jasper?"

The voice was soft, concerned. Odd. He had never heard concern in _her_ voice before.

He opened his eyes.

Black hair, red eyes, beautiful..._but not Maria._

He sucked in a deep breath as his consciousness returned to the present.

_Love. Concern. Tenderness. Fear. Worry._

The last two pierced his heart as he reached out to cup her cheek in his hand.

"Alice," he said weakly.

"Who is Maria?" she asked softly, leaning her face into his hand.

He paled. He had not realized he had said her name.

"The vampire who changed me," he said flatly as he stroked her cheek with his finger. _So soft._

Alice didn't ask any more questions. She was nearly purring as he caressed her, and he felt her desire return. He sucked in a breath.

"You're afraid..." Alice said softly.

Jasper simply shrugged and turned away, ashamed of his response to her. He closed his eyes, leaned his head tiredly against the wall, clenched his knees to his chest, and mentally added this to his list of failures. He waited to hear the quickly fading footsteps and the slamming door that would mean she had left. Instead, he felt her pry his fingers one by one from his knees and snuggle in under his arm until her face was only inches from his own. He opened his eyes in shock. She nestled her face against his neck and wrapped an arm around his waist. He blinked, unsure of how to react. This tenderness was outside of his frame of reference. Timidly, tentatively, he curled his arm around her, watching her face and emotions for any signs of disgust. There were none. In fact, she cuddled closer to him, with a gentle sigh. Jasper closed his eyes, overwhelmed with emotion and whimpered slightly. He did not know how to deal with this. It frightened him almost more than Maria's cruelty, more than the vicious attacks of the newborns. Maria's cruelty had been deserved by his worthlessness; the vicious attacks of the newborns were part of war. Hatred could be matched by hatred, attacks with death, punishment with regret. But this...this new feeling...he did not know how to fight it. He knew it was undeserved. He knew that if Alice truly knew him, who he was, what he had done, she would not be lying curled across his chest so trustingly. And yet he could not find the strength to tell her the truth. Not yet.

Moments passed, hours perhaps. Her tenderness caused him grief, because he knew it could not last forever. But he concentrated on it, hoping that he could remember this bittersweet feeling in the empty days and years that were yet to come. Days and years that would be even emptier, now that he had held her in his arms.

Suddenly, she wiggled, pulled his shirt out from his pants, and moved to slide her hand underneath.

"Jasper...I want..."

His hand flew to stop hers, grasping it gently. He peered into her eyes, pleadingly.

"Please, don't..."

"Why?"

_Because I don't want you to see the monster. _

"Because...because...please no..."

"Jasper, don't you know that I love you? That nothing could change that?"

Jasper didn't answer. They were sweet, gentle words, but she had not seen how horrible he was under his shirt. He did not want to frighten her away.

_Dear God, not yet._ _Don't take her from me yet._

To his surprise, she moved her hand.

He had said no, and she had listened. She had not continued on, despite his wishes. He had said no, and she had stopped. If he could, he would have cried. It was such a simple thing, but his heart clenched tightly at it. _His wishes mattered to her._

"Alice..."

Emboldened by this, he placed his fingers gently under her chin, and tilted her face up to him. For a moment, he found himself lost in her eyes, but just for a moment. Led by his heart, he lowered his lips to hers, lightly at first, then deeper as he pulled her against him. He felt his own long buried desire grow as she returned his kiss. Absent was the powerlessness he felt when he was with Maria, the shame. He was in control right now. He could stop when he wished. It was empowering.

He felt his body respond to her as he kissed her, and abandoned her lips to trail kisses along her jawline. She was delicious, and he wanted her. A primal male part of him that had been long repressed surfaced. He wanted to claim her, make her his, give her so much pleasure that she would never leave. For that, he could give her. He could worship her body, make her tremble with delight, and perhaps that ecstasy could make up for the fact that he himself was unworthy of her.

_It had been so long. _

And even longer since he had enjoyed it.

He suddenly pulled away and stood. He crossed the room to turn off the lights. It made little difference to what they could or could not see, but Maria had always insisted that they perform in full light. It made his scars more apparent, and it was easier for her to show him how flawed and hideous he was. The shroud of darkness was comforting, even if only symbolic.

He returned to where she still sat on the floor, to where she had held him and pulled him from his ancient fear. He lifted her in his arms, kissing her deeply as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She had given him control when she obeyed his request, and in this submission, Jasper found strength. He had always been the one to submit. But somehow, his submission to Maria and Alice's submission to him were so very different. Hers was not a submission at all, but a compromise between equals. And it was this tender unity of spirits they shared that would allow him to open his heart and banish his fears to make this a union of bodies, as well.

As soon as rational thought returned to Jasper, he rolled off of her, afraid to crush her. She was delicate and small, and he felt almost oafish next to her. He resisted pulling her into his arms, memories of Maria holding him back. No woman wished to hold him, to be reminded of the horrible creature she had been with, once her mind was freed from the heat of desire. So instead, he simply reached out and stroked her cheek with impossible softness, looking at her with adoration. She would leave soon, but he could not deny her that. She had given him so much more than he deserved, so much more than he expected.

She looked back at him and, to his confusion, closed the distance that separated them. She pressed her face into his shirt and curled up her knees so that he enveloped her entire tiny body.

"Hold me, Jasper..."

His arms were around her, cradling her, before he even had time to consider her request. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the smell of her, mixed with the musk of their union. She wrapped an arm around his waist and sighed happily before planting a sweet, feathery kiss on his neck.

The emotions that came from her floored him. She felt safe, protected, _happy_. Cuddling him. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay, warm and safe in his arms.

And he felt love.

He bit his lower lip hard enough to leave a mark as his heart clenched.

_Love._

How was it possible? How was it possible that she loved him – that anyone loved him? How was it possible that she didn't want to leave, that she wanted to stay here, in his arms? He began to tremble, and his eyes smarted with unshed tears. It was nearly more than he could bear. It made him feel dishonest, as if she had somehow misunderstood him, as if she had somehow thought him someone he was not. But he had not misled her, had he? He could not think of how he could have done so.

_It is because she does not truly know me yet. Her love will fade when she discovers the monster._

It comforted him in a way, this thought that perhaps the earth had not, in fact, shifted on its axis. Though he could not deny the love that came from her now, she was simply mistaken in her emotions. In time she would come to her senses and realize what everyone else had realized – that he was unlovable. Then she would leave, and his world would regain balance and make sense again. And he, alone as always, would relive this night in the darkness to come, and remember the time when, for a moment, he had been loved.

And so he would treasure this moment while he could, holding her close, memorizing forever the feel of her snuggled in his embrace.

Alice shifted in his arms, nestling closer to him. He buried himself in her emotions, an action that to him was just as intimate as when he had earlier found solace and joy in her body. He reveled in the contentment and love he found there, letting it surround him like a cocoon he shared only with her.

For the moment, it pushed away his darkness, banishing it to the shadows.

For now.

But for now, it was enough.


	7. Chapter 7 Blessed

Chapter 7

After a few hours, Alice freed herself from his embrace and rose from the bed, not bothering to cover herself. Jasper stared at her, transfixed by her beauty. She was perfect in every way that he could see. Soft, perfect skin, perfectly proportioned body – he gazed in awe, his heart bursting with an emotion he was afraid to name. Then the shame came. Shame that he could never offer her the same physical perfection. His skin was marred and repulsive. It marked him as the loathsome creature that he was and always would be. He tore his eyes from her, suddenly nauseated by the fact that his vile body had dared to touch such perfection. He reached out and grabbed his pants from the floor beside the bed and pulled them on under the covers. Even fully clothed, he found himself unable to face her. He closed his eyes tightly, burning with self-loathing.

Jasper heard her dress and felt the pressure on the bed when she sat down beside him. She did not say anything at first, but he felt the confusion in her as she tried to interpret his actions.

"Jasper?" she asked tentatively after a moment. "Is something wrong?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. How could he tell her the truth?

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked. Her voice caught as she nervously bit her bottom lip.

At that, Jasper opened his eyes, surprised, and met hers.

"Never," he said adamantly. Instinctively he raised his hand to caress her face, but clenched his hand at the last moment, refusing to further dirty her with foulness. She took his hand and completed his movement, leaning into his gentle touch and meeting his eyes. Jasper found himself lost in hers for some time, falling, falling, falling into the red deepness. He shuddered with the intensity of the emotions he felt, emotions that had so infrequently been directed towards him. It was like a drug, her love, but Jasper was terrified to let it do its healing work on his soul – for how much worse would the withdrawal be when she left? And he was not foolish enough to believe that she would stay for long with one so unlovable as himself.

Alice broke the silence, her eyes tracing the dark purple circles under his eyes.

"Your eyes are so dark...you need to hunt."

Jasper shuddered at the thought. "I'm fine," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"No, you need to hunt." She paused, her eyes going distant for a moment. "It's time to leave Philadelphia anyway," she said, suddenly, matter-of-factly. "We'll hunt along the way."

"Really, I'm fine," Jasper replied weakly, then shook his head to dispel his dark thoughts. "Where will we go?" he asked, a bit of the old hopelessness entering his tone. He did not want to drag Alice along on his never-ending, miserable journey to nowhere.

"Cleveland," she said simply.

"What's in Cleveland?"

"Our next stop." She sighed. "I don't know why, but I know we go to Cleveland. I can see it."

"How does that work, your ability?" Jasper asked curiously.

"I...I don't know exactly," she admitted with a bit of embarrassment. "I just suddenly see things. Out of nowhere. They just appear in my head, and I know that's what's going to happen, how things are going to go. Like I saw you, right after I awakened after my change. I saw you and knew we would be together someday. And I saw...I don't know his name. I always thought of him as Father. He's tall and blond, like you, but he has golden eyes. I don't know why. He's one of us, but his eyes are golden, not red."

"Golden eyes?" Jasper shook his head. He had never heard of such a thing.

"Yes. Like amber. The two of you..." she paused as she searched for the words. "The two of you...you were there for me in the darkness, one my lover, one my Father. I wanted to be good, to be someone worth knowing, when I met you. And when we meet him. We...someday we're going to meet him, Jasper. Some day he's going to be part of our lives. I know that, as surely as I knew you would be."

"Where is he?" Jasper asked simply.

"I don't know. But I know the next step to finding him is going to Cleveland. We have to go to Cleveland to find him."

Jasper sighed, rising from the bed, making sure his clothing was in place. "Very well," he said softly. "If you say that we will go, we will. Lead the way. I will follow."

They walked slowly once they cleared the city, in no hurry to reach their destination. As they walked, they talked of silly things, of serious things. Once or twice he even laughed. How long had it been since he had laughed? He couldn't even remember. At night, the stars came out. Away from the city they were bright and clear. He stopped in a clearing, looking up at the stars. His arms encircled Alice's waist from behind as they stood, gazing up at the sky. They were not tired, of course, but the beauty of the night required stopping and appreciating it, at least for a little while. He found himself trembling as he held her. It was so difficult for him, believing the feelings he felt from her. She wanted him here. She was happy with him. Throughout their walking and talking, he had felt no awkwardness, no hint that she was not exactly as happy as he was. Her joy was filling his heart to bursting, and he wanted so very much to give in to the feelings. But he could not stop the fear from his own heart. The fear told him that such a thing could never last, that giving in to her joy would eventually only cause him more pain. The fear told him it was dangerous to hope. Believing, even for a moment, that she could love him once she truly knew him was a dangerous chimera.

But he so wanted to believe.

Jasper sat on the soft grass, making his lap a pillow for Alice's head. As they gazed up at the stars, he ran his fingers idly through her hair.

"Jasper?" she asked after a moment. "How does _your_ ability work?"

"My ability?" He sighed, curling a short strand of her hair around her finger as he searched for the words. "It's my blessing and my curse all in one. I can...well, I can both feel and influence emotions. I can influence a large group of people..." He trailed off darkly, remembering how Maria had used that ability... "Or I can influence just one: a targeted influence. As for how far I can feel..." He paused, trying to decide how to word it. "While broadcasting my emotions is something that must be done consciously, feeling the emotions of others is not. There have been many times I wished it was," he said, losing himself for a moment in dark memories.

He shook his head and continued.

"I can feel everyone, all the time. Distance does decrease it, but it never completely goes away. There's always a....hum, a baseline of emotions that is always there. But I can feel each individual person, too. I can feel what you're feeling, Alice. And it makes me happy, although I can't understand why..." His voice caught. "I can't understand why you feel that way about me..." He trailed off as Alice gasped, her eyes yet again distant. He was recognizing that look already – it was the look she had when she saw something.

"Alice?"

"Jasper...there are humans coming..."

He paled.

"Oh, god, no...not now..." he pleaded, but their scent hit him almost immediately, wiping his prayers from his mind. The transformation in him was instant. All discussion, all tenderness, all humanity was lost as he fell into a crouch, the muscles in his body primed and tensed - the perfect predator. He had waited too long and was far too thirsty to fight his body's need.

He leapt easily from the ground to the lowest branch of the nearest tree, where he could watch his prey approach and wait for the perfect moment to pounce. His body trembled with anticipation, and a nearly sub-sonic growl came from his chest. As the two human men – hunters, most likely - approached, chatting and unaware of the danger awaiting them, Jasper shifted his weight slightly. When they were directly beneath him, he leapt from the tree, landing on the nearest human.

The kill was not pretty, but it was fast and efficient. He was not a newborn, to leave a mess when he was done, or a sadist to play with his food. He killed, drank, and discarded.

When it was over, he threw a hand over his face and staggered back to the tree, leaning against it and burying his face against the trunk. His whole body trembled as the emotions of the human he had killed coursed through him. He swallowed, trying to control himself enough that Alice could not see his weakness. He could hear her cleaning herself not far away and could feel her emotions – calm and satisfied.

She was not weak, like he was.

His victim's death-terror hit him full force causing him to whimper and dig his fingernails into the hard wood of the tree. He wanted to scream. Were he alone, he would have. But he could not – would not – scare Alice away with his weakness yet. He heard her come closer, and he shuddered as he swallowed back a cry.

_Dear God, don't let her see me like this._

"Jasper?" Alice called, looking around her. "Jasper, where are you?"

The wave of pain and horror hit him so suddenly that he could not restrain the wail that was ripped from his heart. The next moment, Alice was beside him with her hand comfortingly on his back.

He raised an arm to cover his face, as if he could somehow hide himself from her with it.

"Jasper!? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

Jasper scoffed in his pain. "Humans can't hurt us..."

"Then what is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm so weak..."

"Jasper! Tell me what's wrong!"

Her fear and worry were intensifying. She was becoming frustrated. He cringed. He did not wish to upset her. But she would surely be more upset if she knew...

_Oh god, it hurt..._

"Jasper!"

"It happens every time I hunt," he cried, his voice given a sharp edge by the pain. "Every time. I feel them dying. The humans. I have to die with them, to feel everything they felt, or it won't go away!"

He sank to the ground, covering his head with both of his arms.

"You feel the humans' pain?"

He barely had the strength to nod.

Alice was silent. He expected at any moment to feel the brush of wind as she threw herself from him and to hear the sound of her fading footsteps as she fled from him, happy to have escaped as easily as she had from the weak vampire who could not even feed without showing such weakness.

But it did not come.

After a moment, he felt the gentle pressure of her arms snaking around his waist. He gasped as she touched him, in surprise and confusion. She pressed her face against his shoulder and held him tightly. He tentatively lowered one arm from his head and put it around her, then the other. She snuggled closer.

_Love. Loyalty. Trust. Faith._

These emotions and more radiated from Alice, meeting the darker emotions within him. They warred inside Jasper's mind. But in time, Alice's emotions began to gain ground. He felt the pain retreat slightly. He opened his eyes and stared at Alice, whose eyes were clenched shut in concentration. She was trying to force it away. Jasper shivered. He did not understand. This was completely beyond his ability to comprehend. Not only had she not left, but she was trying to help him force the darkness away. Her emotions cried that she loved him, that she trusted him, that she would never leave him.

It was all he had ever wanted. She was offering him everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he had ever wanted for as long as he could remember. His heart rebelled in fear. Nobody loved Jasper Lee Whitlock. He was not deserving of love. He was only deserving of revulsion. He was a monster. Horrible. Unlovable. Worthless.

"Jasper...stop!" Alice insisted softly, still holding him tightly.

"Stop what?"

"I can feel what you're feeling...it's not true, Jasper. It's not. None of it."

He had not meant to emote. But she had felt it anyway.

And she was still here.

He held her in his arms tenderly as time and her love fought a slow but eventually victorious battle against the pain. Even with her here, the pain was nearly unbearable at times, but holding her was the only thing in nearly a hundred years that had even made a difference. It was a pain that only abstinence could defeat entirely, and he knew acutely that he did not have the strength to starve himself to death. His body would take over, as it had tonight. The monster would consume him until his physical needs were satisfied. He had to feed, and because of it, he had to resign himself to the pain that he would suffer for it. There were no other options.

Alice snuggled into his arms, seemingly content to hold him as long as he needed. He knew in his heart that this would not – that it could not – last. But he didn't care. Not right now. He made a decision in that moment to treasure each and every moment he had with her, to live each moment as if it were the last one that he would have with her. He would not waste moments with Alice. He would love her as much as he was able. He would pour into each moment all the love in his being. He would love as if he were human, and each moment had the potential to be his last.

She looked up at him. Her red eyes met his own as he lowered his lips to hers worshipfully, kissing her with all the intensity of his being. Alice returned the kiss tenderly, lingering as she stroked his cheek. Then she stood and held out her hand to him, as if offering to help him up.

He stood as well, catching her hand in his as he did. He pulled her against him, stroking her hair, burying his face in it for a moment, radiating to her all the love he felt for her. He would let her know every single moment of every single day, as long as she would let him, how very much he loved her.

Suddenly he pulled away and took a few steps back before formally offering her his hand.

"Waltz with me, Alice. Here, under the stars, with only God and the heavens as our witness."

Alice looked around her and smiled, curtseying and taking a step forward to take his hand in hers.

Jasper had learned to waltz as a young man in Texas. His parents had owned a ranch. As the son of well-off property owners, he had been expected to attend dances and balls. As an officer in the army, it was little different.

But never could he remember a dance as perfect as this one.

True, his clothes were rags. There was no orchestra, not even a piano to provide them music. Alice's dress was not like that of the girls he had danced with then. But these external things made absolutely no difference to him tonight. When his eyes met Alice's, his loving gaze held hers as he led her to the music that played in his heart. It almost seemed to him that she could hear it too.

It was perfect.

Magical.

The stars twinkled overhead, and a light breeze ruffled the trees at the edge of their clearing. In the distance, his sensitive ears heard deer settling for the night and the flapping wings of the bats and night birds.

And still they danced.

He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this would be a night that he would never forget, that every detail would remain etched in his heart.

He twirled her gently and pulled her closer, gazing at her intensely.

And then suddenly, he smiled. Not just with his eyes. His whole face broke into a bright, broad smile that transformed him. It was a smile that few had seen. Years seemed to lift from his face. For a moment, one could see the hopeful young man he had been before he was changed, before he had been sent to a living hell for all eternity. He could not remember the last time he had smiled. It had been so long since there had been any reason to.

When the waltz ended, he began another dance, then another, then another. He was loathe to let her go, to lose this perfect place, this perfect feeling, this perfect night. When dawn broke, he still held her, dancing slowly to an internal tune, with his cheek resting against her head. He looked down at her as the first rays of the sun hit them and stroked her cheek when it sparkled like a thousand diamonds, but he spoke not a word. Words could not encapsulate this moment. Nothing could.

In that moment, staring into Alice's eyes, Jasper knew that his world had changed irrevocably.


End file.
